Holden was raised from birth to become a weapon for The Hand, he trained every day of his life in the martial arts and other such skills to better himself. His loyalty lied with his master who saved him when he was baby and left in a snowstorm.

Through his years of being alive, Holden began to realize that he had no passion for the Hand’s cause and just wasn’t into killing people. This left him empty and hollow, plus he constantly had weird dreams about faint lullabies and other strange shit that was really throwing him off. All of these memories get shaken loose when he encounters his first S.H.I.E.L.D agent whose appearance (mainly the eyes) makes him remember something he had long forgotten.

Eventually, the agent, after doing research on the guy that spared him, tracks Holden down and gives him some files, stating that he’s not that bad because he never killed anyone who got in his way, just the target. I mean, the killing is still not great but it showed that he would go the extra mile to spare someone and he only killed because it was the mission. The agent also shows Holden a picture of a necklace that makes the ninja flip out and run all the way back to the mountains to confront his master who reveals that he lied about Holden’s origins which is why Holden constantly felt uneasy.

Apparently, Holden was the master’s grandson and his mother was a hand ninja who defected to Kunlun, the mystical chinese city of immortals. The master tracked her down and straight up murdered her before kidnapping baby Holden and taking him under his wing.

Holden isn’t pleased with this and decides that he can no longer be a ninja of The Hand, he flees the mountain and goes into hiding where he is finally found by the same S.H.I.E.L.D agent as before (the one with the eyes) who offers up a place for him at S.H.I.E.L.D academy so that he can find his real father and figure out if he’s more than just a doll.

“Who are you?”

“I am no one”

“What are you?”

“A weapon?”

That’s how everyday he could remember started. Before that, he remembered only being cold..

Deep in the mountains, snow nipped at every part of a dying body, unforgiving frost lashing at its small frame as it lie helpless in a blanket just waiting for death to approach. A baby, a little baby with a strong cry that seemed to shout at the storm that he was stronger than it could ever be. Little baby Holden, fighting with his dying breath.

He had been abandoned there on that mountain, left to die because he was someone’s burden that ended up being too heavy to carry. He would have perished right there on those steps if not for the gates of the temple opening to reveal his one and only savior, the master.

The elderly man lifted Holden up and stared at his burning red face, surprised that a baby could even be alive for more than a minute out there but here one was, screaming, shouting for a chance to live, a fire in its soul that burned through the snow. The elder saw the strength in the baby’s eyes and smiled because he’d used such fire before. That’s how everything started, just a snowy on a very cold mountain.

After taking him in, the master began conditioning, he convinced the other leaders that the child could be a valuable asset to them and through the mystic arts of the Hand, he began to strengthen the young child and prepare him for his new life as their most useful weapon.

He knew the feel of a shuriken before he recognized letters, could track down animals before knowing basic math. His first broken arm was at the age of 5, he attempted to fight someone of a higher skill level than him and was rewarded for it with a proper beat down.

Training was not cancelled that day.

Go faster, be better, try harder, those were the words etched into his body with every strike he took and every scar he got. Day after day, year after year, all the while never breaking, never crying. He would succeed, he would be what his master needed. Everything moved smoothly but he couldn’t escape the nagging in the back of his mind that something wasn’t right, a whisper in the farthest reaches of his psyche that his story, the story he staked his life on wasn’t what he thought it was. Still though, he continued to train and threw those spells of discomfort to the back of his mind through constant meditation.

His first real mission as an assassin was a crime boss who had said too much about their sect. Holden was the one tasked with the deed.



Holden came back bloodied and worn but most importantly, he came back victorious. He later learned that his master was the one to tip off the target, he wanted to test Holden to see if he was ready for the more advanced levels of training he would have to go through which he had done with flying colors, the scars he earned wouldn’t be forgotten.

But even with this achievement, the hollowness didn’t fade..

More time passed, more battles were fought, more training was done and through it all, Holden grew stronger and faster, his knowledge of his inner chi giving him a step above average people in terms of physical ability. What truly made his master give him credit for was Holden growing mastery of the martial arts, his dedication to it. He learned techniques quickly and would allow any damage to his body that was necessary for him to achieve the desired outcome.

At first, his master thought it was out of loyalty but he soon realized that there was a sense of desperation to the actions. His young disciple was looking for something in the movements, perhaps hoping that he could find his center in the technique.

Holden’s eyes were always pitch black and lifeless, when he saw his reflection he wondered if there had been something missing, time was moving by and he began to realize that he had no passion for his sect’s work. He had no love of the demon they worshipped and only ever fought because his master told him to. But more than that, the nagging feeling he had about what his master told him never felt right.

His master realized then that Holden needed something to help him focus. He knew that Holden could not stay the doll that he wanted him to be much longer, lest he die simply because he has nothing to live for. It was foolish of him to believe that something without fuel could continue on forever so he had to supply Holden with something to fight for so that he would be the proper tool needed for The Hand’s success.

He would later come to regret this decision.

The master sent Holden to Hydra, an organization that worked with the hand constantly. There, Holden faced many new challenges, including taking on threats like enhanced humans, in-humans, cyborgs and all kinds of crazy shit! I mean...and a great many other new challenges.

See, Hydra was different from The Hand, they weren’t often silent and always seemed busy to gain power in anyway they could, his temple was always quiet with the only sounds ever being heard were broken bones and people training. Agents of Hydra seemed to have a lot of down time and showed expressions Holden had never thought possible. Smiles, frowns, laughing, sounds he’d heard and things he’d never seen before, for the first time he felt out of place and wondered if this was what he had been missing, pieces of the world outside he had never seen before. The brothers and sisters of his temple always said silent prayers but these men and woman cheerfully cheered for Hydra like it was second nature. They explained to him their purpose and their reason and Holden decided that he would continue there, in the hopes that he might find he was looking for.

Killing though, felt the same. The other’s revelled in it but he couldn’t seem to be proud of his work like the others. It was all just another thing that happened. Just another order and it became slowly clear to him that the emptiness wasn’t dissipating in the wake of his deeds. He would think about what he did in his sleep, remembering each face so that he could etch them into his dreams the worst ones were always accompanied by a faint song in his memories.

It was on one of those nights that his world actually took a different turn, a change he couldn’t escape. What set things in motion was his encounter with a S.H.I.E.L.D agent.



Holden wasn’t the same after that, his dreams became clearer. The unwinding tapestry that was his mind was slowly coming back together, things he thought were dreams were turning into distant memories but it was all too foggy, to hard to pin down.

Much like himself, though a certain agent seemed to keep tracking him down on every one of his missions. Any time, any place, he was faced with the stupid mug of that idiot agent, always appearing when he didn’t want him to be. It was irritating and Holden had never been irritated before so it was yet another new experience for him. He had finally had enough one night, months later, when he cornered the rat on a rooftop



Holden couldn’t believe what he had found. The memories the files shook loose. He had to get answers, real answers.

And so he went home.


1 year later….

In a coffee shop located in the western coasts of Italy, a young man swept the floor, he didn’t know how to do anything else. The people there seemed nice, he wasn’t sure what nice was though so he couldn’t be sure. He only knew he had to sweep the floors and get the bagels, he was very good at those things so he thought he might be doing something useful, he liked being useful you see.

As the young man swept, the bell of the shop door rang, making him look up to see a group of men stepping inside. This part wasn’t as good. The young man